Defending Her Honor
by Gracewarbucks
Summary: Oliver and Grace plan their wedding, but something terrible threatens to tear them apart.
1. Chapter 1

This is based on the 1982 Annie characters. I don't own them.

Grace floated down to breakfast on Monday morning. She was still beaming from her engagement to Oliver over the weekend at Annie's adoption party. It had been such a whirlwind week and she felt as though she would soon wake up from this amazing dream. She grinned giddily to herself as she admired the sparkle of the enormous sapphire ring on her finger. In walked Mrs. Pugh, setting her steaming plate of scrambled eggs and toast before her. The older woman smiled nervously, "Good morning Miss Farrell," but Grace sensed that something was amiss.

"Hello, Mrs. Pugh. How are you this morning?"

"Fine ma'am," she replied curtly.

"Wonderful!" She looked at the empty spot on the table where the daily newspaper usually laid. She and Oliver read it together every morning, discussing world events and debating politics. It was one of their most treasured pastimes. "Has the paper arrived yet?"

"Uh, let me check on that for you," she scurried out.

Annie bounded into the room, "Morning mom!" she grabbed a muffin and started munching on it.

"Good morning, dear. Please sit down while you eat. I trust you slept well last night?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Good morning, my fiancée," Oliver strode into the room and kissed Grace on the cheek. "Good morning, Annie," he kissed her on her cheek as well. "How are my ladies this fine day?" Oliver sat down at the head of the table. "Where is the morning paper?" he groused.

"I've just asked Mrs. Pugh. It seems no one has seen it," Grace replied.

Mrs. Pugh walked in, handed the paper to Mr. Warbucks, then hastily left.

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS THIS?!" Oliver bellowed.

"Whatever is the matter?" Grace gave a worried smile at Annie. He really needed to start watching his language with a child around.

"Whats it say, Daddy Warbucks?" Annie peeked over the flowers with a mouth full of food.

Oliver handed the paper to Grace. There, splashed across the front page was a picture of Oliver and Grace just after the proposal, locked in a very passionate kiss. The headline read, "Secretary Snatches Billionaire Bachelor."

"How in the world? Who could have taken that picture?" Grace's eyes were wide with shock. Her face went white as she imagined how many thousands of people would see such an intimate picture of her. Their private moment was on display for the whole world to see. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Lemme see!" Annie wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Grace folded the paper, keeping it from her.

"It must have been one of those damn circus performers looking to make an extra buck."

Grace sighed. "It's certainly not ideal, but news of our engagement was bound to get out eventually. You're not embarrassed by me, are you? I AM your secretary..." she fiddled with the ring.

He placed his hand over hers, "Good Heavens, Grace, I am the luckiest man on Earth to be marrying you. I'm still holding my breath, afraid that you're going to change your mind," Oliver laughed. "What upsets me is the press invading our privacy and making it out to be some scandal. I should buy the damn paper and fire the lot of them!"

This was precisely the kind of thing that worried Oliver. He did not give a damn what society would have to say about him, but Grace . . . that was another story. He didn't want even a hint of impropriety surrounding their marriage. Tongues would wag as it was. Eccentric billionaire Oliver Warbucks marries his private secretary, who has been living in his mansion for the better part of a decade. To the outsider it sounded positively salacious. He did not wish to tarnish her reputation. He wanted her to be able to walk into any room with her head held high and be received into society. He also had a daughter to consider now. He wanted to give her a stable family home and to set a good example of how a gentleman should treat a lady.

Grace waved her hands, as though trying to clear the air, "In any case, we have a meeting with John Rockefeller at one o'clock today to discuss closing that factory in Pittsburg."

"Is that today? I have a phone call with William Vanderbilt at one. You know as much about the status of the factory as I do. Could you please brief him on the details until I am through with William?"

"Certainly," Grace was confident in her business knowledge, it was the personal aspect that made her a bit uncomfortable. John always made her feel a bit uneasy. She had heard Oliver complain on several occasions that John had tried many times to put his own daughter, in Oliver's bed in an effort to join two of the great fortunes of the country. She found the idea of using a man using his daughter as a bargaining chip to negotiate business deals to be utterly repugnant. She knew that it would be next to impossible to run Warbucks Enterprise without having a good relationship with the Rockefellers, so she held her tongue. She tried to put it out of her mind.

"So, when are you guys gonna get married?" Annie couldn't contain her excitement.

"Oh, I haven't even thought about it yet," Grace looked to Oliver.

"As soon as possible. Can we do it this weekend?"

"Oliver, we'll have to send out invitations. We can't just throw together a wedding in a week!" Grace laughed.  
"Grace, you may have complete control over the entire event. Make the day exactly the fairytale that you've always dreamed of for your wedding. Spare no expense, but I beg of you: please do not make me wait long," he gave her a long meaningful glance.

She blushed, sharing his impatience and nodded her agreement, "How about a month from now? It will give our guests enough time to arrange travel."

"Very well!"

"Yay! I can't wait! Can I be the flower girl?" Annie clapped her hands.


	2. Joy

"Miss Farrell, Your sister is on the phone," Drake interrupted breakfast.

Grace cast a nervous glance at Oliver, "Well, she will be phoning about the paper, I'm sure. Pardon me." She quickly excused herself to the office.

Oliver caught himself admiring her long legs as she walked away. She was wearing those fetching tights with the seam running up the back. They never failed to draw his eyes up and make him wonder what she was wearing beneath her form fitting dresses which accentuated her curves so nicely. He had often fantasized about what it would be like to run his hands up her shapely legs and discover for himself. He had waited ten long years to find out, surely he could wait another month.

"So, Daddy Warbucks," Annie interrupted his reverie, "how's DOW Jones today?"

Oliver laughed, relieved that Annie could not read his thoughts. He was amused by the little bits of phrases the precocious girl had learned since her arrival. He certainly had other things to keep his mind off of ravaging his gorgeous fiancée.

"Things seem to be looking up for me and the DOW," he mused, ruffling her curly red locks.

Grace was anxious to hear what Joy would have to say. She always thought she knew what was best for her baby sister. She was very vocal about her disapproval of Grace's employment and living situation at the mansion. She did not trust Oliver and had warned Grace about "men like that" when she had accepted her position as his private secretary.

"Hello, Joy?" Grace picked up the receiver trying to sound cheery, while bracing herself for the tongue lashing that she was she was about to endure.

"Grace Farrell! I cannot believe that the first I am hearing about your engagement is in the newspaper! It's disgraceful!"

"I can't either, to be quite frank. I have just seen the paper myself," Grace grimaced with the memory of that horrible headline. "I wanted you to be the first to hear our good news, but it only just happened on Saturday. I was planning on sending you a telegraph this morning-"

"And this picture! I am quite horrified. You insisted that your relationship with that man was strictly professional. How long has this been going on?"

"I assure you, it _was_ strictly professional until very recently."

Joy lowered her voice, "Have you compromised your chastity?"

Grace gasped, completely mortified by what her she was suggesting.

"I'll take your silence as an admission of guilt!"

"What? NO! Joy!" Grace blushed furiously. She whispered angrily into the phone as if someone might be listening, "I have done no such thing. I have conducted myself as a respectable lady. Listen, Joy, so much has happened over the last couple of weeks and I want to tell you all about it, but I would prefer to discuss these things in person. The wedding is in a month and I could really use help getting everything arranged. Would you come here to help me, please?"

"Of course, anything for my baby sister!"

The women made arrangements for Oliver's autogyro to pick Joy up in a week. Joy was the only family that Grace had. Their parents had been told that they could not have another baby after Joy was born, so when they found out they were expecting Grace fifteen years later, they were overjoyed. They called her their miracle baby. Sadly, their mother had passed due to complications from Grace's birth. Their father could not bear his grief and ended his own life shortly thereafter, leaving the girls to fend for themselves. Joy ended up raising her little sister entirely on her own. She had been forced to grow up and take on enormous responsibilities at a very young age. If it hadn't been for Joy, Grace would have probably ended up in an orphanage herself. Truth be told that was the reason she came up with the idea to invite an orphan to stay at Oliver's home. She pitched the idea to him as a way to improve his image, but it meant so much more to her.

Grace loved her sister dearly and was so thankful that she was going to come and help her with wedding planning, still she worried about how she and Oliver would get along.


	3. Assault

Warning: the following chapter contains a sexual assault, if that may be triggering for you, please skip it.

"I hear congratulations are in order," John Rockefeller Jr. stood with his back to Grace, pouring coffee.

That blasted newspaper article was really giving Grace a headache, "Yes, why thank you. We are very exci-"

John cut her off and turned around, handing her a cup. "So, Oliver is finally making an honest woman of the little minx he's been keeping locked away all these years," he winked at her. "You must be what? 3 or 4 months along now?" His eyes ran over her stomach.

"I beg your pardon?" Grace asked, bewildered.

"You're pregnant. It's apparent that you're putting on weight. I have a doctor who can take care of your little . . . situation," John stirred the cream into his coffee as casually as if they were merely discussing the weather.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken."

"I cannot conceive of any other reason that THE Oliver Warbucks would be marrying his secretary," he spat the last word. "He's been so careful up until now: no children. I had assumed he was impotent. That is assuming he is really the father," he eyed her suspiciously.

"Oliver and I are in love!" Grace was shocked at the bizarre direction this conversation had taken.

"I'm sure you are. It has nothing to do with the billions of dollars he has in the bank," John's voice was thick with sarcasm.

"I will not tolerate this kind of accusation, Mr. Rockefeller," she hurried towards the door, but he crossed the room, physically blocking her path.

"Maybe he'll let me have a taste of that hot little pussy of yours before you tie the knot. It must be real sweet for him to put his fortune at stake." Grace went to smack him across the face, but John caught her hand in the air. With a sick tearing sound, he tore her dress. Grace screamed, and he covered her mouth with his hand and forced her down on the couch. Grace struggled against his weight, kicking and scratching, desperate to free herself.

Just then, Oliver and Punjab burst through the door, having heard the commotion from down the hall. Oliver's heart was in his throat as he saw John on top of Grace. He paused briefly, torn between two instincts: to destroy the man hurting Grace and to comfort her. His blood boiled and adrenaline took over. Instantly he flung John to the floor and began pummeling his face relentlessly with his fists. Punjab allowed his employer to beat John for a few minutes, before separating the two men.

"What is the meaning of this?" Oliver demanded, struggling against his body guard to attack John anew.

John was holding his face, which was rapidly swelling, becoming unrecognizable. "I just wanted to give your little slut a try before the big day."

"That is Miss Farrell to you and don't you dare to speak about her in such a disrespectful manner!" Oliver barked, "She is a lady through a through. The likes of which you have never before met! Punjab, escort Mr. Rockefeller off of the premises immediately."

"Oliver-"

"That will be all Mr. Rockefeller. Our business is done."

Punjab physically removed him by the scruff, giving a protective glance towards Grace.

Oliver flew to attend to Grace, who was cowering behind the couch. He saw her dress was ruined and removed his suit jacket, wrapping her up in it and holding her close. Sobs racked her body, making it difficult to breathe. She had her arms crossed in front of her, holding herself and as makeup ran down her face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered over and over, kissing the top of her head. He picked her up and carried her to her suite. He pulled back the sheets on her bed and tucked her in gently.

Mrs. Pugh appeared, having heard of the ordeal, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Call a doctor and the chief of police!" Oliver ordered.

"No, please," Grace whispered. "I'm fine. I just need some rest."

The older woman paused at the doorway and Oliver dismissed her with a shake of his head.

"Darling, what happened?" Oliver asked with a sense of dread.

"He accused me of being pregnant. Of trying to trap you. Of marrying you for your money. I told him that we were in love," fresh tears streamed down her face. "Then he said that he wanted a taste...I tried to escape, but he grabbed me, and tried to force me. I fought as hard as I could. . . "

"Did he...?"

"No. You and Punjab got there before he could go any further, thank goodness," she sniffled.

"I'm so sorry, Grace. I should never have left you alone with that monster."

"I love you, Oliver. Please, just hold me," she was still in shock.

Oliver hesitated for a moment, then climbed into bed and held her. He ran his fingers through her long soft curls, trying to soothe her.

"Don't leave me," her body trembled with each breath.

"I promise you, I will not leave your side. Try to get some sleep, my love. You are safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

True to his word, Oliver kept vigil over his fiancée, watching over her as she slept fitfully throughout the night. He felt a terrible sense of responsibility. He had promised to protect her, and he had failed. John Rockefeller was a known philanderer, but Oliver would never have imagined that he would have the nerve to assault Grace in his mansion. John was just one of hundreds who would question the motivation behind Oliver and Grace's marriage. Oliver hated that his name and fortune would bring about such troubles for Grace.

 _She is a good woman. I do not deserve her._


	4. Discovered

Oliver woke up disoriented in an unfamiliar room. He was painfully aware of his morning arousal seeking out the warmth of Grace's body, which was pressed firmly against him. Ever a gentleman, he rolled over, took a deep breath, and willed his body to relax. Suddenly the events of the previous day came crashing back to him. Inside, his temper flared as he recalled the image of John on top of Grace. If Punjab had not been there to stop him, he would have surely killed the man in his office. It enraged him that she had been attacked because of him. He was not sure where he stood with her now.

He looked around the room. Grace's suite. He had not seen it since she had moved into the mansion. She had transformed it into her own little sanctuary with blue paisley wall paper, a photograph of her parents on their wedding day in an antique frame, a silver tray with perfume bottles. Her room smelled faintly of lavender, the scent he had come to associate with her.

Grace began to stir and opened her eyes with a little groan.

"Grace, I'm here. Are you alright?" he took her in his arms.

"Hi. Good morning," her breathy voice greeting him with a smile. Waking up next to Oliver was a pleasant surprise.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No. I feel much better," she leaned in for a kiss, but he paused and looked at her thoughtfully.

He smiled sadly, not sure where to begin "Grace, my fortune and reputation are a curse, in a way. There are always going to be people who are going to try to take advantage of me and those about whom I care deeply. It isn't fair to you; you deserve better. I cannot ask you to take on such a terrible risk. I cannot be the reason for your pain."

"Oliver Warbucks, I appreciate your concern, but do you really think I am so naive? I have worked for you for ten years. I have witnessed the attempts on your life. I am aware that being your wife is going to bring unusual challenges, but I cannot walk away now. Not when I know that you return my affections. It would kill me to work beside you while swallowing my feelings. I love you Oliver. I want you. All of you."

"You're sure this is what you want?" he asked, relief behind his voice.

"I've never wanted anything more."

He kissed her gently, running his hands through her soft brown hair. She deepened the kiss, teasing his mouth with her tongue. Oliver's fingers were itching to explore her beautiful body. He put his wants aside, determined to respect her boundaries. He would enjoy the kisses that she offered and not push her for more than she was willing to give. Grace was fighting her own battle. Oliver's kisses unlocked desires deep within her. She felt an ache between her legs that begged for release. She knew it was wrong to kiss him like this in her bed, but it felt so wonderful. So natural. She craved more.

Suddenly Annette breezed into the room. She froze. "P-p-pardon me, sir!" she stuttered and ran out of the room.

Grace's eyes opened wide and she blushed from deep within. Surely there was only one conclusion that Annette had drawn after discovering them kissing so passionately in bed with their clothes rumpled. Grace was positively mortified. She locked eyes with Oliver and they both laughed uncomfortably.

"No more sleep overs until the big day, I promise."

"Thank you for taking care of me last night. You are an honorable man."

"I love you, Gracie. I promise to always protect you." He kissed her forehead. "I'd better leave before Annie finds me here!" Oliver jumped up and left quickly for his suite.

While Grace had certainly been embarrassed for Annette to find them in such a compromising position, it was also a blessing. She knew that her self-control was weak with Oliver. She had never before felt the burden of her chastity to be so heavy, nor the temptations of the flesh to be so great. The sooner the wedding took place, the better. _One more month._


	5. Nightmare

"Sahib," Oliver heard Punjab calling him from his slumber at the back of his consciousness.

"Sahib, it's Miss Farrell" Punjab's eyes glowed before him.

Oliver slowly got up, still waking. He pulled his robe around him and followed the bodyguard down the hallway to Grace's suite. This was the third night that she had woken with a nightmare, sobbing and calling for him. Immediately after she had been attacked, he had assigned Punjab as her personal body guard. Oliver blamed himself for the incident and he wanted to make sure that she would never be hurt again. Punjab had taken his responsibility very seriously, never leaving her side. Oliver had insisted that Grace take some time off of work so that she could recover and plan the wedding. She seemed fine during the day, but she was haunted by images of John in her dreams.

"It's ok, Grace. I'm here," Oliver held her tightly.

"Oliver! Please, make it stop. Help me!" she cried into his chest, flailing against him. She was still half asleep. Her nightgown was soaked through and sweat was beading on her forehead. She clung to him, shaking like she had just emerged from a fight.

"Shhhhhh. It's alright," he soothed, rubbing her back. "Grace, wake up, it's me. It's Oliver. You're safe."

"Oliver?" she breathed with relief.

"Punjab, fetch Mrs. Pugh. Have her bring a clean set of sheets," he got up and drew a bath.

Mrs. Pugh arrived and helped Grace into the tub as he changed the sheets on her bed.

This was tearing Oliver apart. He hated seeing his confident vivacious fiancée so broken. He had offered to sleep on the couch in her room at night in case she needed him, but she was very insistent that it would not be proper. As it was, she would call for him in the middle of the night and he would end up falling asleep in her bed holding her. Despite his attempts to be discreet, the staff had witnessed his comings and goings. Grace's overbearing sister was due to arrive in the morning and Oliver was uneasy about her visit.

Grace emerged from the bathroom looking relaxed in a fresh nightgown that hugged her curves. She smiled at him, feeling embarrassed. Even through her sorrow, she looked so radiant. How he wished that he was sneaking into her room in the middle of the night for more blissful reasons. She laid down in the bed and Oliver tucked her in gently.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry. If you need me again, don't hesitate to send for me. I love you, Gracie. Try to get some rest."

"I love you too."

He kissed her tenderly and headed for the door.

He found Mrs. Pugh waiting for him in the hallway, "What are you going to do?" The older woman had tears in her eyes. Grace had been like a daughter to her.

"I don't know," he shook his head sadly.

The joy of planning a wedding had been dimmed by the attack. It was as if a shadow had fallen over the entire mansion. Grace and Oliver had agreed that it was best not to tell Annie about what had happened, but the perceptive little girl could sense that something was wrong. Grace did her best to hide her sadness, but her blue eyes betrayed her.

Oliver was positively irate. He wanted to kill Rockefeller. He had robbed Grace of her sense of security. Oliver knew he had to do something to put her mind at ease, but he was not sure what.


	6. Tea for Two

Grace and Annie waited on the steps of the courtyard, where they watched Joy descend from the autogyro. Their dresses billowed and they shielded their eyes from the current as the propeller slowed. Grace walked towards her sister with arms outstretched. The sisters had always shared a striking resemblance, but Joy looked much older than the last time Grace had seen her only a year ago. Her lined face was drawn and she looked tired.

"That was simply terrifying! Do you travel by that contraption often?"

"Welcome. It's so wonderful to see you," Grace embraced her sister, ignoring the question.

"Why thank you! It's only taken a decade and your engagement to finally garner an invitation," Joy replied dryly. Grace always went to visit her sister in Boston. She knew Joy would not approve of the extravagance and finery on display at the Warbucks mansion. Joy was practical by necessity: a navy widow with three sons nearly grown. They always had enough, but they lived very simply.

"And who is this young lady?" Joy stooped to meet Annie.

"My name is Annie, ma'am," she curtsied carefully as Grace had taught her. She looked adorable in her blue gingham dress. Grace had tied matching ribbons in her hair, in an unsuccessful attempt to tame her unruly curls

"Joy, I want you to meet my daughter, Annie. Annie, this is your Aunt Joy," Grace smiled at her sister, who looked as though she might faint. "There is so much to tell you, won't you join us for tea?"

Mrs. Pugh met the ladies in the drawing room, where a spread of tiny sandwiches, scones, and a beautiful English tea set were waiting for them.

"Annie, do you think you could help me in the kitchen?" Mrs. Pugh winked at Grace.

"Oh boy!" she jumped up in excitement, then corrected herself, "I mean- May I, Mom?" She was trying her hardest to be on her best behavior. She wasn't sure why Joy's visit was important, but she knew that there was a great deal of preparation and anxiety surrounding her arrival.

"Yes, of course dear," Grace kissed her on the cheek, then watched her scamper out of the room with Mrs. Pugh. Grace was glad to be alone with her sister so they could speak candidly.

As soon as Annie was out of sight, Joy began to barrage Grace with questions. "Daughter? What in heavens name is going on? How old is she? Is she Mr. Warbucks' illegitimate child? Where is Mr. Warbucks, anyways?"

Grace had anticipated an interrogation, "Annie is ten years old. She is an orphan who came to stay with us for a week in an effort to improve Oliver's image. She has captured our hearts, and we could not bear to send her back, so we have decided to adopt her as our own." Grace took a sip of her tea, allowing her sister a moment to absorb the information.

"Adopt her? Grace, you don't know what that child comes from. How she might turn out. Why, I heard of a woman who adopted a child and he ended up setting the house on fire!"

"Fiddle faddle! Annie is a sweet child," she hoped she was out of earshot. "After everything you and I went through as children, I wanted to do something to give back to the community. If I didn't have you to take care of me, I might have ended up in an orphanage myself."

Joy was silent, a rare occasion. "Annie brought Oliver and I together, in a way," Grace added.

"Yes, what is this about you marrying your employer? I thought your relationship was strictly business," Joy's voice was thick with disapproval.

"It was. Until Annie arrived. She has opened Oliver's heart in ways that I could never have imagined. He has grown softer, gentler, kinder. I always had feelings for him, but seeing him care for Annie has made me realize that he would be a wonderful husband and father."

"And you haven't let him into your bed..." Joy raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"...No...of course not," Grace felt uncomfortable with the wording of that question.

"Hm. Where is your fiancé? I should like to finally meet him after all of these years," she looked around the room as though expecting him to materialize on command.

"He is away on business, I'm afraid. He will return late tonight. You will meet him tomorrow morning."

"Very well, that will leave me sufficient time to get settled."

Grace showed Joy to her room, all the while she was exclaiming over how grand the house was and quizzing her about Annie, Oliver, the mansion. Grace tried unsuccessfully to redirect their conversation to the wedding preparations. She grew weary as she helped unpack her bags. Annette appeared at the door, "Might I be of service?"

Grace had felt awkward around her ever since she had discovered her and Oliver kissing in her bed. She had been avoiding her. She could only imagine what she must think of her, probably a loose woman who was willing to trade favours for baubles.

"Yes, Annette. Will you please help my sister while I go lie down? I have a bit of a headache," she lied, creating an excuse to escape the discomfort she felt.

"Certainly, Miss Farrell," she began to hang up dresses in the closet.

Joy had never had a maid, but she would imagine that Annette was probably be privy to private affairs.

"What is Mr. Warbucks like?" she began, trying to get a feel for the situation.

"He is a good man. Very kind and fair," Anette smoothed the wrinkles out of a skirt.

"What is his relationship with my sister like?" Joy pressed.

"They have always been very close. I can tell that they care for each other very deeply," she stated simply. She did not like the direction of Joy's line of questioning.

"Have you ever seen him with another woman?"

"Mr. Warbucks has been celibate for many years." She was not about to reveal information about his promiscuous past. It was none of her business, and besides it had been so long ago, it no longer seemed relevant.

"Have you ever witnessed he and Grace being...affectionate?" Joy's language was not direct, but her meaning was clear.

Annette thought of the other morning. She didn't know the circumstances, but she felt protective of the young woman, whom she had always considered a friend. "Miss Farrell is a proper lady and has always conducted herself as such."

"Very well. You may leave me. I want to freshen up before dinner," Joy dismissed her with a wave of her hand.


	7. Trouseau

Joy, Grace, and Annie spent an enjoyable evening reminiscing and laughing together at dinner. Annie loved hearing old stories about her mother and she peppered her new aunt with an endless stream of questions.

As they finished dinner and Annie's questions subsided, Joy announced, "I have a wedding present for you."

Grace looked up from her plate and raised an eyebrow at her sister expectantly, "Oh, what is it?"

"I want to show you. I've asked Punjab to deliver it to your suite."

Sitting in the middle of the room was a large wooden chest with her name carved on the lid.

"Thanks, Joy," Grace was confused, but trying to be polite.

"It's a hope chest. Open it up," she urged.

Grace lifted the lid of the chest and gasped. Inside were the most beautiful nightgowns, robes, linens, handkerchiefs embroidered with her name, and other little niceties. She ran her fingers along the silky clothes.

"I've been collecting items for your trousseau since you were a young girl. I know that it's an old fashioned practice, but I thought you might like to have them."

Grace threw her arms around her sister, "Thank you so much! It's all so beautiful." She was surprised that her sister had bought such finery. She would have thought that Joy would find it to be frivolous. The thoughtful gesture touched Grace, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt conflicted about telling her sister about the attack that she had suffered. She feared that Joy would blame Oliver. Grace also continued to feel shame regarding the whole ordeal.

"I was beginning to worry that you were going to be an old spinster and I would never be able to give it to you." The two women laughed.

Grace held up a short cream colored satin nightgown with lace trim.

"That would be perfect for your honeymoon," Joy offered.

Grace giggled and reddened at the suggestion.

"There's something we need to discuss," her face grew serious. "I know it's usually a mother's job, but I'll have to do. The wedding night can cause anxiety and fear for virgin brides. In order to perform your wifely duties, there are some things you need to know. When a man becomes aroused, his penis becomes hard-"

"Joy! Stop! I understand how it works. I've just never actually...done it...before..." Grace thought she might die of embarrassment.

Joy was relieved not have to explain the mechanics, "It may hurt a little the first few times and don't be alarmed if you bleed a bit. That's perfectly normal. Your engagement and wedding have come about so quickly; be sure that you take your time with this. Don't let him press you if you're not ready." She softened with the memory of her late husband, "It's not all bad though. It can feel quite wonderful." She felt her throat grow tight with emotion as she thought of her little sister embarking on this new journey as wife and mother.

"I'm so happy for your Grace. I wish you and Oliver a lifetime of bliss… and I must admit that Annie is a delight. I see why you were so charmed by that little girl."

"So, you're no longer worried that she'll burn down the house?" Grace teased.

Joy gave a smirk in reply. She hated to admit to being wrong and Grace knew it.


	8. Accusation

Joy walked up to Oliver's office, the door closed. She could hear him barking, "I don't give a damn about the legality of the issue. You will find a way to bring him in this evening and you will allow me take care of the rest. You have long told me that you owe me a favor, and now I am calling it in. Good day," he slammed the phone down in the cradle.

Joy paused, second-guessing her mission. She could not forget the haunting cries she heard coming from Grace's bedroom last night. She had seen a look of hesitation in Grace's eyes when she had asked if she had shared a bed with her fiancé, but she never thought her sister would deceive her. She took a deep breath and hardened her resolve. This might be her only opportunity to speak to him in private before the wedding. She knocked on the door and he called, "Enter."

Joy walked into the room to find Oliver furiously scribbling down a letter. Of course she had seen his picture in the papers, but they had never before met. He looked larger than she had imagined and anger radiated off of him, giving him a menacing air.

He looked up from his desk surprised and faltered for a moment. At first glance, he thought she was Grace. Their features were strikingly similar. The alarm on Joy's face made it clear that she had overheard his outburst. He wondered how much of it she had witnessed. He stood up to greet her with a strained smile, "You must be Grace's sister, Joy. She speaks very highly of you. It is a pleasure to meet you at last, won't you please take a seat?"

She received him coolly with a nod and sat down in the chair opposite his desk, "Mr. Warbucks, I have a very important matter to discuss with you."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"I have come to the realization that you are taking liberties with my sister. She has waited 30 long years for her husband and now she has compromised her chastity for you. I will not sit idly by as you take advantage of her innocence. It ends now. You are not to lay a hand on her again until you are wed."

Oliver sat stone faced, as he waited for her to finish. He began slowly, "I'm sure I have no idea to what you are referring. I have certainly done no such thing. I have behaved in a gentlemanly fashion and protected her honor through and through. I have nothing but the utmost respect for your sister. I know she is a virtuous woman; it is one of the many things that I admire about her. I would never ask her to compromise herself. Now, if that is all, you may see yourself out."

"I heard sounds coming from her room very late last night," Joy continued. She noticed Oliver freeze, confirming her suspicions. "Your voice, her cries, the sounds of passion. Is that what you call 'gentlemanly behavior?' How dare you sit here and act so self-righteously after what you've done?" she spat.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Despite the fact that he had checked his lustful desires at Grace's request, here he stood being admonished by a woman he had never met. He knew that Grace and her sister had a complicated relationship and did not want to put additional strain on it, still he would not allow her to bring false accusations against him.

Oliver clench his teeth, trying to check his anger, "Madame, you are gravely mistaken. What you heard last night is none of your concern. What Grace and I do behind closed doors is our business alone. Because I _am_ a gentleman, I will not betray her confidence. I will not discuss this matter further. If Grace chooses to clarify what you heard, she is fee to do so. Now, leave me before I lose my temper," he dismissed her.

Joy sat there with her mouth agape. This interview had not gone as she had anticipated. She could not believe that he had the audacity to deny what she plainly heard. And what was the meaning of the phone call she had overheard? Clearly Oliver Warbucks was a powerful and man with his share of secrets. She got up and huffed out to confront Grace. Joy knew that Grace would be livid that she had confronted Oliver, but she felt that it was her duty to protect her little sister.


	9. The Fight

"So we meet again." On the outside, Oliver looked steady and in control. On the inside, a storm was raging. Before him stood the man who had assaulted the great love of his life. He had robbed them of their sense of security. Here he stood in a private interview room at the police office, where Rockefeller sat gagged with hands bound behind his back, just as he had requested. The chief of police had long been a personal friend, and Oliver had called in a favor to have Grace's attacker delivered to him.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage of a woman is cowardly and disgusting. And to do it to my fiancée in my home? You have some nerve," Oliver spat in his face. Rockefeller's eyes were wide and he was trying to speak through the gag, squirming against his restraints. "Tomorrow you will announce that you are taking a sabbatical. Indefinitely. You will leave on the ship to Paris tonight. I have already arranged your travel and notified the papers of your departure. Do we have an understanding?"

Oliver nodded to Punjab, signaling him to remove the gag.

Rockefeller sneered, "I will do no such thing! My business is here! I cannot believe that you would choose that whore over your business interests. You have gone soft. How do you expect to run Warbucks Enterprise without my company?"

"That woman is my fiancée and if you ever speak ill of her again, it will be the last thing you do. I guarantee it. She is a woman of virtue and class, something you would not understand. As far as our business dealings are concerned, I realize that I need Rockefeller Oil and as one of your largest customers, you need me, but I will no longer work directly with you. I never want to hear your voice or see your face as long as I live," Oliver circled him with his hands folded behind his back.

"I am not going anywhere," Rockefeller was stubborn even in such a vulnerable and futile position.

"I am disappointed that it has come to this," Oliver stated calmly, slowly rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckles menacingly. It was a lie. His body was buzzing with rage for Rockefeller and his encounter with Joy that morning. He craved a physical release. "Untie him," he told Punjab, who did as he was told. John rubbed his wrists, sore from the rope. He looked up at Oliver, who towered several inches above him. He was an enormous and intimidating presence with broad shoulders and thick strong arms. Oliver's floodgates were open and he gave way to his emotion. John was still in disbelief when he came throttling toward him. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, yet somehow he could not react in time. Oliver's fist landed soundly on his nose with a sickening crunch and a spray of blood. John grabbed at his nose, the shock wearing off. Oliver felt high from the exhilaration.

"You bastard," he yelped, jumping to punch Oliver squarely in the mouth.

Oliver spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor, as his tongue ran over his teeth, finding one loose. He smiled showing a fierce display of red tinged teeth. He had not been in a physical altercation in decades and the sting of the hit made the reality of the situation set in. Punjab looked to Oliver, awaiting orders, but defending Grace's honor was something that took pride in doing himself.

John was feeling victorious as he watched Oliver's lip begin to swell rapidly, but his eyes were still tearing from his broken nose and he didn't see Oliver coming. He felt a sharp jolt to his stomach as he buckled over onto the floor, gasping. The wind was knocked out of him and he desperately tried to recover his breath.

"I expect our business here is done here, unless you're hungry for more," Oliver stated coolly. Part of him was reluctant to leave him like this. He was resisting his instinct to beat the man to death for disrespecting Grace. "Punjab will escort you to the ship and see you off."

"Fuck...you," John managed to rasp softly.


	10. Newspaper

Grace rolled over, waking to a crinkling sound. She looked over confused to find the morning's newspaper lying folded neatly in her bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wondering how it had gotten there. Then she saw the headline: Rockefeller Leaves for Paris. She scanned the article quickly. John was leaving the country. Indefinitely. She jumped out of bed and raced down the hall to Oliver's suite. He was still sleeping, and she hopped onto his bed with childlike excitement.

"Oliver, wake up! Have you seen the paper yet?" she asked breathlessly.

"What in the devil?" he woke with a start, then recognized the welcome intrusion of his fiancée and smiled. In her haste, she hadn't put on a robe. She was wearing nothing but her nightgown and her curls were flying around her face free and untamed, joy bursting from her face. He could see the faint red indentations from the sheets still on her cheeks.

"Oh dear, what happened?" she touched his bruised and swollen eye and he winced in pain. He was sore and exhausted from his encounter the night before. His adrenaline had been rushed and he'd had trouble falling asleep. He had lain awake for hours fantasizing about her and now her she was.

"It's nothing," he assured her, touching his eye gingerly. She grabbed his hands, noting his bruised knuckles.

"What on earth is going on?" she demanded. "The paper..." realization dawned on her. "Oliver," she started slowly, "You didn't have anything to do with John Rockefeller's sudden departure to Paris, did you?"

Oliver's face was impenetrable. "Grace, you and I are finally alone in my bed. Do we really have to discuss him at a moment like this?" He pulled her close and kissed her gently, opening her mouth with his tongue.

"We still have two weeks until the wedding, darling..." she whispered as he sent kisses down her neck.

"So we do," he began to fondle her breast through her thin nightgown. A soft moan escaped her lips as he traced the outline of her nipple. She felt an electric current travel from her breast to the cleft between her legs. Her body begged for more. She had never allowed a man to touch her like that; it felt so good. She returned his kiss and stroked her hand along his back, pressing the warmth of his body against her. After years of waiting, she was so close to being able to explore her sexuality properly. She didn't want to fight the urges of her desires any longer, but when she felt his hardness pressed against her belly, she snapped out of the trance. She pulled away quickly, jumping out of his bed. She had to remove herself from his embrace before she gave into the overwhelming power of her lust. Oliver closed his eyes and gave a sigh of resignation. Grace blushed, feeling abashed, and began stammering, "well, ahm, that is...I'll...I'll see you at, ah, break-breakfast..." She made her way to the door, very aware of his eyes following her bottom.

"Your sister..." Oliver paused. "She heard us the other night...in your room. She accused me of taking advantage of you."

Grace's eyes widened, "What?"

"She confronted me yesterday in my office."

"Oh. I'm so sorry," she looked down.

"Grace, it's up to you, of course, but I think you need to tell her about John. About the assault," he said gently.

"Yes, of course. I will handle this," she sighed deeply. She had not wanted to discuss the ordeal with Joy, but it seemed as though she had no choice. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she imagined her sister overhearing them and what she must have thought was going on behind closed doors.


	11. Revelations

"Joy, there's something that I need to tell you," Grace paused. "It's-um, it's really difficult for me to talk about." She glanced out the window, into the bright sunshine. She smiled briefly as she saw Annie run across the manicured lawn. She didn't know where to begin; she could not look up to meet her sister's gaze.

"What is it, Grace? You can tell me anything," Joy pressed.

"A few weeks ago, I was attacked by a business associate. He-he tried to force himself on me-" her voice cracked as she tried to keep the tears at bay. Joy's eyebrows knit together with concern and she took her sister's hand.

"Did he-hurt you?"

"No, thank goodness! Oliver stopped him before anything happened, but it's really shaken me. I've been haunted by the whole ordeal. I wake with nightmares, crying and frightened-"

"Oh Grace, I'm so sorry. I had no idea," Joy whispered apologetically.

"No, please let me finish. I-I understand that you heard Oliver in my room late the other night, but it wasn't an act of passion. He was comforting me. He's been really wonderful, helping me heal from the trauma. I have shared my bed with him, but I swear to you: we have not crossed the line of propriety. He has been a perfect gentleman-respectful and honorable. I know that you confronted him in his office," Grace stiffened in her seat, balling her hands into fists in her lap. "I know you think you are protecting me and that you know what's best, but you need to stop. I am a grown woman and I am getting married in a week. I need you to respect my boundaries and allow me to make my own decisions, even if you disagree with them," Grace finished, looking Joy directly in the eyes.

"Of course. You know I just want the best for you. I've spent my life taking care of you and protecting you, but you're all grown up now and you don't need me anymore," Joy smiled sadly.

"That's not true. You've done so much for me over the years, and for that I will be forever grateful. But now I need you to be my sister and stand by me. I need your love and support. I'll still ask for your advice when I need it, but I need the freedom to build a new life with Oliver."

"You're right, Grace. And I hope you know that I am always here for you. No matter what. And Oliver-he's a good man," Joy reflected. He had held his tongue as she had accused him of taking advantage of her sister.

Grace was relieved that her sister knew the truth. She was relieved that there was an ocean separating her from Rockefeller. Her sense of security was beginning to return. The storm in her mind had finally ceased and she could feel the clouds beginning to part. She could breathe a bit easier and for the first time since the assault, she looked forward to her wedding day with an unburdened heart. She was ready to dedicate herself to Oliver and Annie and the life they would share together.


	12. The Wedding

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of Oliver and Grace in holy matrimony. They have attended my church for ten years and I have been blessed to witness their friendship blossom into romance. Everyone who knows these two extraordinary people has no doubt felt that they stood in the presence of a true and lasting love, the kind of love that happens only once in a lifetime. They were perhaps the last to know that they were meant to be together," the pastor smiled over his glasses.

"Oliver, please repeat after me: I take thee Grace Elizabeth Farrell, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I vow to love, honor, and cherish thee all the days of my life."

As he spoke his vows, he admired the resplendent beauty of his bride. The beads on her modest high necked lace gown glinted in the light of the afternoon sun and the wind played with the dark loose ringlets of her hair. He had never seen her look more stunning. Her cheeks were flushed, matching the delicate pink peonies of her bouquet, perhaps a bit nervous to have so many eyes on her. She didn't generally feel comfortable being the center of attention.

"Grace, repeat after me: I take thee, Oliver Stanley Warbucks, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I vow to love, honor and obey thee all of the days of my life."

Grace lifted an eyebrow at the word "obey." She was a modern woman, wanting to start her marriage as a partnership. She would give him her life and love, but she wanted to be his equal. She smiled at Oliver.

"I take thee Oliver Stanley Warbucks to be my lawfully wedded husband. I vow to love, honor, and _respect_ thee all the days of my life."

She gave great emphasis to the word "respect," and Oliver grinned back at her. Her feistiness was one of his favorite qualities in his new bride. She was always challenging him to grow and he adored her for it. He would take her respect over obedience any day.

The exchange of rings was sealed with a passionate kiss. Annie cheered, peeking from behind Oliver's back in her tiny tuxedo. She had decided that she wanted to serve as his "best man."

The reception was held on the south lawn in huge white tent with a crystal chandelier and a lively band. The day was a blur of laughter, friends, and well wishes. The dancing went late into the night. As they bid the last guest goodbye, Oliver turned to his bride, "Well, my dear, shall we turn in?"

Grace's stomach growled in response. They both laughed. "I don't think I've eaten a thing all night!"

"Come to think of it, neither have I!" Oliver took Grace by the arm and led her to the kitchen where Mrs. Pugh was cleaning up from the festivities.

"Mrs. Pugh, I thought I gave you the day off! No working! These things can wait until morning! Go get some rest!" Oliver gave the old woman a peck on the cheek.

"What are you two doing in here on your wedding night?" she admonished.

"We are positively famished!" Grace chimed in, pulling some leftovers out of the refrigerator.

"Well, you'll certainly need some sustenance for tonight," she winked at Grace.

"Mrs. Pugh!" Grace averted her eyes, blushing furiously.

"I'll leave you two alone. Enjoy your evening!" she gave Grace a sly grin.

Grace was mortified with so many people knowing that she was going to finally lose her virginity tonight. She looked up at Oliver, who was staring at her with deep longing, ignoring the plate before him. His hunger was something that food would not satisfy.


	13. Wedding Night

Oliver carried Grace over the threshold. She was light in his arms and he was struck by how tiny she was. He placed her on the bed and laid down beside her: she in her wedding gown and he in his tuxedo. They were alone at long last. The moment that they had waited for was here and yet they felt a little awkward.

Oliver cleared his throat and broke the silence that was separating them like a shade, "Here we are." He stroked her soft pink cheeks.

"Here we are," she closed her eyes, relishing his touch while trying to steady the pounding of her heart.

Oliver leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her waiting lips. He ran his hands over the silky fabric of her dress, squeezing those generous curves that he had longed to touch for years. He had not experienced the love of a woman in a decade and he felt like a starving man sitting down to a feast. He was resisting the urge to tear off the dress and ravage his bride. He wanted tonight to be about her; something that she would look back on with fondness.

"Grace, I love you so much. I'm so happy to be your husband. I just want to let you know that there is no pressure for tonight. We don't have to do anything that you don't want to do. I want to make you feel comfortable and let you set the pace."

"Oliver, I love you so much. I'm ready to give myself to you completely," Grace breathed in his ear. She was surprised at the steady confidence in her voice. She had spent her whole life defending her virtue, and here she was expected to cast aside her modesty and reveal herself to this man. Although the constraints that held them had come undone with the exchange of vow, the effects of years of repression lingered. She loved him and she craved him, but part of her was still holding back from opening to him.

Oliver felt himself stiffen with desire. She gasped with surprise as his hand ran over the top of her dress, caressing her gently as his kiss grew with urgency. No one had ever touched her there and the sensation sent ripples of pleasure to her core. Excitement coursed through her body and she could feel the wetness growing between her thighs.

A knock at the door caused them both to freeze, "Mrs. Warbucks?" the muffled voice of Mrs. Pugh called from behind the door.

It was the first time Grace had been addressed as such, and it took her a moment to respond to her new name, "Yes Mrs. Pugh. What is it?"

"I am so sorry for the interruption, but your daughter has woken up crying and asking for you."

Grace sighed and looked to her husband for his approval.

"Go," he assured her, "we have our whole lives. Besides, we will both be distracted with worry."

"Thank you," she kissed his forehead, and pulled herself out of bed, trying to quell the tingling sensations that his petting had stirred. As she crossed the room, he added, "But, you owe me." She turned to catch his playful wink.

Mrs. Pugh guiltily eyed her pristine wedding dress. "I tried my best to soothe her, but she insisted on you," she explained apologetically. She felt terrible for disturbing the newlyweds on their wedding night.

"It's alright," Grace sighed.

Oliver laid in his huge bed by himself. He recalled his own initiation into sex with regret. Groping hands in secret with a cheap professional who had not even bothered to undress. Just a few quick thrusts in a dark alley and it was all over. She refused the coin in his outstretched hand, "Is that all ye've got? I canna charge for so brief a session. Come back when ye are a man," she laughed at him unkindly through garish red lips. He had carried the shame of that encounter for many years, hesitant to be intimate with a woman again for fear of ridicule. At twelve, he had been on his own for some time, making a life for himself and he had fancied himself a real man. From his present vantage point, he recognized that she had been right. He had been just a boy, a couple years older than Annie was now. The women that followed enjoyed the benefit of his overcompensation. He was desperate to prove to himself that he was a man capable of pleasing a lady. He took great pride in making sure that no woman ever left his bed dissatisfied.

The chiming of the grandfather clock broke his reverie. He suddenly realized that Grace had been absent for the better part of an hour. He became worried that something might really be wrong and went to go have a look for himself. He peeked into Annie's room to find them both asleep in his daughter's bed. Here lay the two great loves of his life, cuddled up together looking like angels lying in a white cloud of lace. He covered them both with the quilt and headed to his office.

He chuckled quietly to himself as he poured a glass of scotch. He inhaled the amber liquid deeply, savoring the notes of vanilla. This was not the way he had pictured their wedding night. But his priorities had changed and now his responsibilities as a father came first. He would sacrifice anything for those women.

His mind wandered back to his sweet bride. He had failed to do his husbandly duty and she was destined to still be a virgin by morning light. He imagined her naked in his bed, opening up to him as he feasted upon her delicate flesh. He wanted to see the passion on her face, to hear the sweet noises that she would make, to feel her surrendering to him as she reached her peak. He wanted to make her his, to know her in a way that no other man ever would. One more night, he told himself.


	14. A note to the reader

Hi friends, this story is rated T, so to give our newlyweds the wedding night that they deserve, I will need an M rating. So, I am submitting the final chapter separately to maintain the T rating of this story. If you want to read the very sexy conclusion, it is called "The First Time." I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!


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